


JWP 2020 #20: Mossy Rock

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: End of a case, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: If a mossy rock could be a bird, it would look much like this one.  Written for JWP #20 over on Watson's Woes.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: Watson's Woes JWP Collection: 2020





	JWP 2020 #20: Mossy Rock

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings** : End of an unspecified case. Highly improbable imported species, which I will identify at the end. Terrible sense of humor. And written in a huge rush. You have been warned.
> 
>  **Prompt** : How To Train Your Cormorant: Watson and Holmes deal with a predatory seabird, or some other trained animal (cf. VEIL.)

If a mossy rock could be a bird, it would look much like this one. Shaggy green feathers mottled with yellow covered the round, stocky body. If there were wings, I couldn’t see them. But there was a beak in the middle of a flat, pale-feathered face, and sharp bird eyes watched us with curiosity.

“This…this is the source of the mysterious booming sounds?” our client asked faintly.

The sun-bronzed sailor nodded, his dark hair falling around his face as he carefully held his bird. “Yes, this is Taonga. I’ve had him since he was a chick. He’s harmless, and whatever happens to me, you mustn’t blame him. He was only doing what comes natural.”

The bird bobbed its head, clearly recognizing its name, and rubbed its head against the man’s chest in a surprisingly affectionate gesture.

“Natural, perhaps, but you’ve trained him to act on his nature,” Holmes observed.

“At first it was just luck. Taonga was better than a fog-horn out on the whaling boats when the weather came up sudden. He could be heard for miles. Saved many a life, he did. And then, when I had to give up the sea, he helped me make a few coins with wagers and such-like. Nobody ever believes that such a loud noise can come from so small a birdie.”

“And that, undoubtedly, is how Williams came to learn of you. He hired you to stay in the cottage where I traced you and to encourage your bird to sound at night.”

“It’s easier at night; Taonga prefers the dark to the day.”

“And Williams trusted that the unusual sounds would inspire terror, particularly since he was careful to plant those stories of the headless drummer in the fertile ground of the more imaginative servants.”

“The scoundrel.” Sir Mortimer drew himself up. “He had best hope he is out of the county, for if he is found, I will have the full force of the law brought down upon his head.” He turned to the sailor, and remarkably a smile warmed his face. “But as for you, sir, you need have no fear for your lovely bird. I have never seen his like! You have been part of this plot, but if you would be willing to stay on at the cottage until next month, as my guest, and bring your remarkable bird to the next meeting of the birding society, I will consider myself well-satisfied.”

“A rare bird indeed,” Holmes remarked once we were settled into our first-class compartment and on our way back to London.

“The parrot, or Sir Mortimer?”

Holmes smiled. “A bit of both, my dear Watson.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 20, 2020. And the bird in question is a a kākāpō.


End file.
